We arrive just after midday on the seventh day. We are welcomed back, and immediately Jarl Hralfar and Jarl Kjunn want to meet with me. “After I eat and rest,” I respond.
I honor my promise and go to the council room when I feel rejuvenated enough. Of course, they want to know what the whole thing was about and how it went.
“He wanted to make me a commander,” I respond.
Hralfar raises an eyebrow. “Is that it?”
“For the most part. He wanted to award me with something more, but I declined.” I deliberately neglect to tell them about his agreement to care for my mother.
Hralfar nods as Kjunn’s face contorts. “I thought as much,” says Hralfar. “For the same reasons you first declined to become a captain?”
I nod.
“Did he have anything more to say?”
“Only that he plans for us to stay here and protect against any attack Tygnar might send.”
Once again Kjunn’s expression shows his dissatisfaction, though he says nothing.
“Understandable,” Hralfar comments. “Was there anything else?”
“Nothing that comes to mind.”
He nods. “You may go.”
I hesitate.
“Is there something you wish to discuss?” Kjunn asks.
I shake the thought from my head. “No. Nevermind.” I bow slightly and walk from the room.
Thrak’s training grounds lie layered on terraces to the side of the keep. They are small and consist only of practice dummies and targets. Most of the training takes place with leather and wool pads over our weapons so that we don’t kill each other as we spar. This has little effect on warhammers and maces, so I refrain from sparring, but still everyone comes away with bumps and bruises. Everybody but me.
Genevieve now wields the sword of Lucius Swordbreaker. She practices moves on dummies, but the sword will not light on the soft material. Only when it hits or scrapes against metal will it begin to glow and then burn.
A soldier approaches me as I practice slow moves against a practice dummy. This one is reinforced with iron bars rather than wooden poles, as I tend to break the wooden ones.
“Captain!” he greets.
“Yes?” I respond. I have not yet grown accustomed to the name of ‘captain,’ though I have had it for while now.
“I’m sorry to disrupt your training sir, but I, with all due respect sir, would challenge you to a spar.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes, Captain. You are the mightiest of us all, and there are many things I could learn from you.”
James gives me a nod and Percival shrugs. Nathaniel and Jericho are still going at each other with their blunted weapons.
“Very well,” I mutter, hefting my hammer, which is already appropriately fitted for the duel. Not that a pad on the hammer head will do anything to dull the pain.
He lifts his sword, which has some sort of thin sheath on it to keep the sharpness from killing somebody on accident. He holds a shield on his right hand, and fights with his left.
Let’s get this over with, I think. He stands ready, and then pounces. Easily I bounce his sword to the side and knock him in the chest, just lightly enough to land him on his back. He looks down at the hammer head placed above his sternum.
“What did you learn?” I ask, genuinely curious.
As I help him up, he answers, “Not to be so eager to strike.”
I nod. “What else?”
He runs through the few seconds in which the battle took place. Then he shakes his head.
“You left yourself open with the lunge,” I criticize. “All I had to do was knock your weapon to the side and you were wide open, even with the shield.”
He nods. “I’d like another go.”
“Very well,” I respond. Then we take our places and ready ourselves.
This time he stays back, hovering. He’s waiting for me, I realize. Well then let’s give it to him.
My first strike is one that I allow him to block. After the second he retaliates and I deflect it with a blow of the hammer. Then after another moment, I lash out, get through his block in a single swift movement, and knock him to the ground. A little bit of a crowd has started to form.
He gets up with a grunt of disappointment. Nathaniel and Jericho, the victor having been the former, are now watching me.
“No more,” I mutter.
“I’d like to try!” says a soldier. Then he adds quickly, “If I may, Captain?”
Reluctantly I nod.
This battle goes much the same, without much of a fight. I wouldn’t go as far to call it a battle